The Wicked
by iknowmykingdomawaits
Summary: Maverick woke up not knowing where she was, or who had sliced her back open. Natasha Romanoff finds her and brings in her into the Avengers - they seem to know something Maverick doesn't. Avengers Spidey and maybe a little Deadpool too.


I was surrounded by blackness, covered in it. It was holding me down like water and I couldn't swim to the surface - the surface I could see so clearly but was unable to reach.

I tried to remember what happened, but I couldn't. When I reached for the memory, it was shrouded like a inky cloud that not matter how hard I pushed, it would not budge.

_My name is Maverick Rozhkova, I am nineteen years old, I am a mercenary, I - I-_

Nothing would come after that. It was lost in the blackness.

I was beginning to think I was lost forever, drowned in the shady abyss of death, when a heard a faint voice calling me.

"Hello? Hey, I need you to wake up for me. Come on, you can do it." It was a woman, that spoke smoothly and delicately.

Suddenly something shook me, and gently patted my cheek, a soft, warm blob being held to my face. It was pleasant, like sunshine, so I tried to open my eyes but it felt as though someone was holding them closed, preventing me from ever seeing the sky again. I fought the nothingness, tried to clutch at anything, at something. I found a foothold, readied myself, and launched back into the world –

A woman, _the_ woman, was kneeling in front of me, rummaging through my pack. She was lovely, with bouncy red curls that flowed to her shoulders and strong cheekbones. Her eyes were dark, and the red lipstick on her lips coordinated with the tan leather jacket she was wearing.

I grunted, and she looked up at me.

"Hello, Maverick." She said with a venomous smile. I realized immediately who she was.

_The Black Widow._

"If you're here to kill me, you be doing us both a favour." I slurred, trying to speak properly. It was true - I didn't have anything to live for any more.

"No, no, god, no." She waved her hand in the air. "I was sent to get you, and my tracking worked, I guess, because here you are. There'd been a fight." She pointed at the pools of blood behind her, strewn over the alleyway in the snow. "But you were the only one here. Can you tell me what happened?

I tried to think, but nothing was clear. I shook my head, glancing away from her.

"It's okay." The redhead replied. "I'm Natasha, by the way." I attempted a smile and succeeded to some extent. "Now, we have to go get you looked at."

I looked down, and a large patch of snow around me was stained with the crimson of my blood. My back screeched with pain, and I didn't dare move.

"I guess my healing factor hasn't kicked in." I said, my breath coming in short gasps.

"Maverick, I need you to come with me." Natasha inclined her head, attempting to make me feel level with her. "There are some things we need to discuss."

"And why would I go with you? How do I know I'm not walking right into a trap?"

"It's with the Avengers."

I wondered what I could possibly have that the Avengers want. Sure, I've got a little money to my name but no family, no friends, no connections. Everybody I ever knew was dead, and I can't even stand up.

"What the hell do they want me for?"

"We think you can help us with a few things." She said placidly. "Now let's go before you bleed to death."

"Impossible, but sure, let's go."

Natasha helped me hobble to the car, and the drive to the tower was quick. It was three buildings coupled together, each one a different height. I knew the tallest one was the actual Avengers tower, the other two were offices, etc. I'd tried to break in once, and made it to the 77th floor before the AI even realized I was there.

She grabbed a wheelchair once we were inside and made me sit down in it, and pushed me to the elevator. The crowded lobby looked at me weird, and it was then when I realized I probably had blood entirely covering my face.

We made it to the elevator, and when it dinged, the glowing red number read 93. We were at the penthouse.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a type of living room that looked like it had been taken straight from a magazine. The furthest two walls were floor length glass, and the skyline of the city could be seen for miles. Push rugs were strewn about, and a white couch and two leather arm chairs were placed in front of a massive television. There was a basketball game on, the fans cheering loudly and the announcers trying to remain neutral to both teams, but there was no one in sight. A small spiral staircase led up to what I assumed as the roof.

It was pin-drop quiet, and it scared me more than if I had walked straight into a torture room. Silence is scary – it makes the things in your head louder; and you never want to know what's in my head.

"I'm gonna go get Bruce and Tony, okay? Stay right here." She ran off down the hallway to the left, leaving me all by my lonesome. I got out of the wheelchair, my back screaming, and tried to twist my hand around to feel the wound. I discovered I couldn't lift my arms above my shoulders.

Natasha appeared again in the hallway. "Come with me." She said, gesturing. I struggled over to her and followed her down the breezy hallway. The same full length windows lined the right side of the hall, and the left wall was filled with doors of various sizes.

She walked into one, and I followed close behind. There was a glass table, with two arches over it, and hundreds of cabinets and drawers in the wall. Various medical equipment was over the room, and three bright white lights blared down at me.

"Maverick," Natasha began. "This is Dr. Bruce Banner. He's not a medical doctor, but he knows what he's doing. You need to listen to him." I tried to croak a hello, but my voice wasn't working.

"Your healing factor hasn't kiced in yet?" Bruce asked, and I shook my head. "I need you to lie face down on the table, please." He asked, rummaging through the doors. I did as he said.

"We're gonna have to cut open your shirt, okay?" Dr. Banner said, his voice smooth. I felt the cool metal scissors snip through the fabric, and my back exposed to the cool air. Tony made a low whistle in the background.

Bruce let out a breathy sigh. "Okay, I'm gonna have to stitch you up. I have stuff to put you under but it's Thor's - you'll be out for a month"

"Just do it, I'm not a squealer." I rasped, gritting my teeth. I tried to blank my mind, thinking of only one thing, one simple thing - the pain exploded into my back with every stitch. It filled me with agony so strong I thought my back was being cut away with rusty scissors.

A cloud of inky blackness dug at my mind. I drove it away, but it kept coming back. It filled the edges of my brain until I couldn't hear the low voices of Natasha and Tony, until the bright lights were nothing but a distant haze.

I went out cold.

* * *

I woke up laying on a comfy bed covered in blankets. I had my sports bra on, and my pants, but no shirt. I decidedly didn't open my eyes in case someone was in the room. I was right - I could hear two men murmuring in the corner, and I picked up on their conversation.

"- just don't understand, Tony. Why is she so important?" A deep voice came from the corner.

"Because. You didn't see her back. She was hacked pretty bad, but she walked in here. Like it was Sunday and she was going to church. And, she has a healing factor that nothing like I'd ever seen. As soon as Bruce was done, he put her on oxygen. She healed right up. There's still a scar, but -" Tony was cut off by the other man.

"But we should we have her on the team?"

"Steve, because I think she can led us right to him." Tony said slowly, his voice calm. I could hear him walk over to me, and I pretended to be asleep. He lifted my arm up in the air, and pointed to my tattoo written on the underbelly of my arm."Look."

"in profundum inferni, non alicujus usus, super iniquos, ." Tony read my tattoo out loud.

"The depths of hell have no use for the wicked." Steve repeated in English. Satisfied, Tony set my arm back down, and walked away.

"Do you believe me now?" I didn't hear anything after that so I assumed they had stopped talking. I slowly opened my eyes, and the light blinded me for a moment before my eyes adjusted.

I was in the same room as before, except on a hospital bed. Tony was sitting in a leather armchair, tapping away on his phone-thing. Steve, assuming it was Steve, paced around wearing a blue t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Oh, thank god you're awake." Steve said, rushing over to me when he made eye contact. He was very handsome, with a sharp jaw and brilliant blue eyes. His blonde hair was pushed back, from him running his hand through it like he did now.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked, joining Steve. I nodded, not trusting my voice just yet. I kicked off the blankets and swung my feet off the bed and sat up. My back was not in agony, so I assumed it was safe to move my arms. They worked as normal, showing no signs of their previous hindrance. The two just looked at me and I rolled my eyes.

I reached my hand around to my back, but Tony caught me with a tight grip. "That's probably not good idea." He said, looking at me with his brown eyes.

Shooting him daggers, I wrenched back my hand. Feeling along the muscles in my shoulders, I worked across my back until I felt a big, ropy scar. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt my way along it, starting from my left shoulder to my right hip, it curled around my body like a horrible snake. I sighed, disappointed I couldn't heal it, but thankful I was still able to function properly.

"So, Maverick. If you're feeling up for it, we need to ask you a few questions." Tony demanded more than asked. I groaned and agreed.

I got up and without asking, barged through the drawers until I found a grey sweatshirt and some grey sweatpants. They had little 'Stark' logos on them, but at the moment, I didn't care. My face was still bloody and I needed a shower desperately. I turned, slid on the sweatshirt and peeled of the dried blood-ridden pants and slipped on the grey ones.

"Okay, I'm ready." I croaked, and they led the way out of the makeshift hospital room, back to the ornate living room from before.

It was early morning, the sun was just peaking out over the horizon.

"How long was I out?" I asked, finding my voice.

"Since yesterday afternoon, when Tasha brought you here." Tony replied, getting onto the elevator. I joined them and we rode down in silence. We hit #1 for the lobby, but the car didn't stop - the numbers began going up again.

We were headed underground.


End file.
